


Vengeance is Mine Story 2: Need

by LighthouseHunter101



Series: Vengeance is Mine Trilogy [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LighthouseHunter101/pseuds/LighthouseHunter101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair returns to Cascade from the South American prison, but the mysterious American woman has worse in store for him as she unleashes the next part of her vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vengeance is Mine Story 2: Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second instalment of a trilogy.

CASCADE, WASHINGTON

The Learjet gracefully descended through the thick white clouds above the Washington state city of Cascade.

Blair felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him gently.

“Chief, we’re nearly home. Fasten your seatbelt.”

Two bleary eyes opened and looked round at the unfamiliar aircraft cabin and realisation dawned. 

“Home?” Blair enquired, as he wearily rubbed his eyes to remove the last vestiges of sleep.

“Yeah, Chief, we’re nearly home,” Jim added.

The six hour flight had been smooth and the refuelling stop as quick as Matt could make it. Now the English pilot was on final approach to Cascade Airport.

Blair gazed out of the window as the white clouds moved quickly past the windows. Wispy tendrils floated over the window as the plane descended lower. Finally they were through the cloud and the anthropologist could see the ground getting closer: And more importantly so was home. Never had Cascade, with all its inclement weather, ever looked so welcoming. 

Finally the plane touched down and they were hurtling along the runway, the plane’s speed decreasing with every second. Blair smiled to himself, the landing was a lot smoother than the original take-off had been, that had been an experience he never wanted to repeat. That runway, or dirt track being a more apt description, had been barely useable. Blair couldn’t help but think what Jim had said about his friend’s eyesight. No one should have been able to land on that strip of land, on a moonless night, with only blazing beacons situated along its side for illumination. Only someone with Sentinel eyesight would have been able to without wrecking the plane. That was for later contemplation, now the anthropologist was too tired to think about anything but retreating to the safety and comfort of the loft.

The plane taxied for a few more minutes and then slowed to a stop. They disembarked and as they stood on the tarmac Blair realised they really were back in Cascade. Blair felt like dropping to his knees and kissing the ground. Never had he felt so happy to be back on American soil. His attention turned to Jim who was speaking to Matt.

“…it’s the least I can do. You saved my friend’s life. It’s only for one night.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” Matt replied.

“You’re not. Come on, Matt, I want you to come back to the loft with us, then spend it alone in some hotel somewhere.”

“Okay,” Matt acquiesced holding his hands up in defeat.

“That settles it then,” Jim said finally, glad that Matt had finally agreed.

“I’ll just sort my plane out,” the pilot added as he went in to the Learjet and into the cockpit to make sure his plane would be okay over night.

Jim turned to his friend. “You okay there, Chief?” but Blair merely nodded in reply as he was too tired to speak.

“Perhaps he needs to go to the hospital,” Simon stated, as a quiet Sandburg was unheard of and you couldn’t help but notice the bruising to the grad student’s face.

“No, I don’t need to go to hospital. I’m just tired, man,” Blair replied, not hiding the weariness from his voice.

“You slept most of the way home on the plane,” Simon stated.

Jim was scrutinising his friend. He could see the exhaustion in his demeanour. Now they were home he could give in to the tiredness that he was feeling. “He’ll be okay, Simon.”

Blair nodded “It’s just… well it’s a bit overwhelming to be home. It’s been….well it was…” Blair tried to explain but felt overwhelmed by the fact he was free and he was home.

“We know,” Jim said for him. “Let’s grab a cab and go home.”

Blair smiled at that and felt his friend’s reassuring arm come round his shoulder and steer him away as the four men left the airport.

:-) (-:

THE LOFT

Blair walked through the front door of the loft and felt a surge of emotion almost overwhelm him. He had to blink back the tears. He was home. He had dreamt about the loft every night during his incarceration, wondering when or if he would ever see it again. It was the middle of the afternoon and even though he had slept for most of the flight back, he still felt worn out.

He stood for a few moments just inside the door taking in his surroundings.

“You look dead on your feet, Chief, why don’t you go to bed,” Jim said.

Blair’s tired eyes looked first at his friend and then at their guest but Matt just smiled his understanding. Simon had continued home alone in the taxi.

“Matt and I can catch up while you have a nap,” Jim added.

“I am kinda tired,” Blair confessed and then nodded. He trudged off to his room without further comment.

“Would you like a drink, Matt?” Jim enquired after the door to Blair’s room closed. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea please, you know us English and our tea.”

“I think Blair’s part English somewhere; he’s got more tea blends in the cupboard than the English have.”

Matt smiled as he gazed round Jim’s home. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah he is,” Jim replied as he put water on to boil.

“How did you two hook up?” Matt enquired.

“That’s a very long story for another day. You must be tired too.”

“Not really,” Matt replied. 

“Hungry?”

“A little.”

“I can make us some sandwiches. I wonder if Sandburg’s hungry?” Jim said out loud looking at the closed French doors.

“I’d let him sleep,” Matt replied. “He can catch up on things like eating when he’s rested.”

“You’re probably right,” the detective conceded. “So, Matt, how are Francine and the girls?”

“Wonderful,” Matt replied, his English-accented voice not hiding his love for his family. He took a picture out of his wallet and showed it to his friend. It was a candid shot of Matt with his dark haired wife and their three blonde daughters. “Arial’s two, Callista’s five and Gabrielle is seven.”

“They’re beautiful,” Jim replied.

“I know,” Matt replied proudly.

A short time later the two men were sat at the table with ham and cheese sandwiches and English Breakfast tea. They chatted as they ate and caught up with what was happening in each other’s lives.

Every now and again Jim would glance over at the French doors as if he was silently checking on his partner to see if he had woken up from his nap. Matt caught the look several times and wondered about the relationship the two men had. He could tell it was platonic and very special. The former RAF pilot knew that Blair was Jim’s ‘Police partner’ and he also knew how special the relationship was between cops, even though he knew Blair wasn’t an actual cop. 

Later the two men relaxed with a beer and sat talking as they sat on the sofa. Matt’s cellphone began to sing and looking at the caller ID he saw it was Francine. He stood and moved out onto the balcony to talk in private with his wife.

“Hello, darling,” Matt said. “Yeah, we’re all fine and in Cascade...”

As his friend talked to his wife, Jim cleared up the beer bottles and went and checked on his friend. There was no sound coming from Blair’s room, so he silently opened the French doors a crack. Blair was still sleeping soundly. Jim wondered if he was sleeping longer than he should; but he could hear his heart beating perfectly normally, his breathing was normal and he wasn’t warm from fever. The kid was just exhausted after his ordeal and there was nothing better to refresh the body than a healing sleep. After spending two weeks looking over his shoulder in that prison, he could finally relax and give in to the exhaustion he was feeling. Satisfied his partner was okay he closed the French doors silently and moved back into the kitchen.

The Sentinel raised his hearing level a few degrees in the direction of his friend who was still talking to his wife.

“...I’ll be home tomorrow.”

And Jim dialled down his hearing again not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation between a husband and wife. Jim phoned Simon to make sure he was okay and the captain enquired how Sandburg was doing.

It was only 8pm but both men were beat. The rescue had occurred in the middle of the night and the missing night’s sleep was beginning to catch up with both men. Jim changed the sheets on his bed for his friend and then made up the sofa for himself. Matt insisted on sleeping on the sofa and not taking his friend’s bed, but Jim was adamant that his guest would take his bed. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable and the detective was more than happy to sleep on it for one night. Matt trudged up to the upstairs bedroom by 8.30 and soon all three men were soundly sleeping in the apartment on Prospect.

:-) (-:

It was just after 6am when Blair woke up. He felt disorientated at first and he looked round his bedroom wildly. It took him a few moments to realise he was safe in his room and it was Saturday morning. He got out of bed feeling muffle headed after sleeping for sixteen hours straight, but he also felt rested and much better. He got up quietly and stumbled out into the living area, seeing his friend asleep on the sofa. Being Sentinel-quiet he went to the bathroom and took a long and luxuriating shower. It was wonderful to shower without having to keep one eye open for trouble, or look out for the other prisoners leering at you and wondering if they wanting something from you that you didn’t want to give willingly. Blair washed his hair and wanted to stay under the invigorating water until his skin shrivelled but eventually he turned the shower off. His stomach was rumbling and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He dried himself off and dressed quickly. 

Blair went into the kitchen area and thought about breakfast. He didn’t want to wake his friend or their guest. It wasn’t even 6.30am on a Saturday morning and both men had had a pretty busy couple of days as well. The grad student checked what they’d had in for breakfast and was pleased to see they had bread and eggs. Blair poured himself some fresh orange and was just taking a sip when he heard Jim’s voice from the lounge.

“Sleep well, Chief?”

“Fine thanks, Jim,” the anthropologist replied. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, Matt and I crashed pretty early ourselves.”

“I can’t believe I’m home you know,” Blair replied his eyes darting round the loft.

“Believe it, Chief, you are.”

Blair nodded and smiled gratefully. 

“I’ll just grab a quick shower and we’ll have some breakfast. Okay?”

“Okay, Jim.”

As Jim showered Blair started some coffee brewing. He also found some bacon in the fridge to go with the eggs. When Jim emerged from the bathroom Blair poured some coffee for the two of them and then the Sentinel said he could hear Matt stirring. Blair poured Jim’s friend a cup and then he took it up to their guest. Jim stopped as he reached the top of the stairs. Matt’s artificial leg was lying by the side of the bed, ready to be put on when Matt got up. Matt was so proficient with the prosthetic leg that he barely limped when he walked. But when the former covert ops Ranger saw it, it brought back memories unbidden of that mission when Matt had been shot down. It had taken all of Jim’s medical prowess to keep the man alive before they could all be rescued. 

“Morning, Matt,” Jim said cheerfully as he brushed the memories aside and walked over to the bed. 

Matt sat up sleepily. “What time is it?”

“6.30. Sandburg’s brewed some coffee or I could make some tea for you.”

“No coffee’s fine, thanks,” Matt replied taking the cup with grateful thanks. 

“Get up when you’re ready and have a shower. Blair’s doing breakfast. He hasn’t eaten in over a day and I don’t think he can wait any longer.”

“Thanks, Jim. It’s good that he’s hungry after everything he’s been through.” 

“You’re not wrong.”

“Jim,” the Sentinel heard Blair call “breakfast is ready.”

“Get up when you’re ready, no rush,” Jim said and turned to go back towards the stairs.

Blair and Jim ate breakfast and chatted, catching up with things in Blair’s two week absence. Then they made Matt breakfast and as he ate Blair got to know the Englishman a little better. Blair liked him, not just because he had helped rescue him, but he had an easy manner about him. He was very different to Jim. When someone saved your life, you felt a certain natural affinity for that person anyway. No matter their background or where they were from.

After the breakfast dishes were washed and put away. Blair phoned his TA friend Annabelle Burges to see what he’d missed during his two weeks away. He had been planning to be away for that amount of time anyway, so had made plans to have his work covered in that time.

As Blair spoke to Annabelle, Matt was making his plans to depart. Blair was disappointed when Jim told him that Matt would be leaving soon, he wanted to get some details about his enhanced eyesight. He had performed an amazing feat when he had rescued him, flying that jet in almost darkness on a landing strip that was barely lit. No one with normal sight could have done that. The grad student just hoped he met up with Matt Mackay another day when they could spend more time together.

Midmorning and Matt said his goodbyes to Blair. Matt wanted to shake Blair’s hand but the anthropologist hugged the man and told him he would be eternally grateful for what he had done for him. Matt just shrugged it off, just being grateful that he had been able to help. He could never repay Jim for saving his life, so to help any friend of Jim’s was a small way of repaying the eternal debt he felt.

“Don’t answer the door or phone in my absence, Chief.”

“Don’t you think you’re over reacting?” Blair countered, feeling like he had vacated one prison for another.

“No, the woman who got you into this mess is still out there.”

“Do you really think she’ll try something?” Blair asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Jim, I want to go back to the uni on Monday.”

“We’ll discuss that later when I get back.”

That meant ‘no way’ Blair moaned and he was thinking he was going to be having a shadow for the foreseeable future. A Sentinel protecting the tribe, even one member of that tribe, would be determined and dogged in the extreme. The grad student didn’t fight it and knew his friend was only protecting him. If only they knew who the mysterious woman was and why she wanted to hurt Blair. 

Blair watched the door close behind Jim and his aviator friend, as he decided what he would do whilst Jim was out. The grad student sat on the sofa and listened to the silence. No sound of prisoners, no guards yelling orders, no sound of prisoners being beaten. There was nothing. It was a blessed silence and the grad student closed his eyes and sighed as he let out a slow cleansing breath. 

He decided to meditate for a few minutes to centre himself. He sat on the floor and lit some candles and just absorbed the silence.

It felt good to be home.

:-)(-:

MAJOR CRIMES

Monday morning came round too quickly after a weekend of rest and rejuvenation by the grad student. Blair decided, with a little persuasion by his friend, that he didn’t need to go the uni that morning, so he went to the station with Jim instead. That would please the detective and also Blair wouldn’t have to answer any awkward questions at the uni about the bruises on his face. The dig group were meeting later but Blair didn’t plan on going as he hadn’t actually made it to the actual site. The anthropologist wanted to forget everything concerned about a certain South American country. El Valparaiso was, well it just was. Blair was a long way from being a hundred per cent again or anywhere near the person he had been before he had left Cascade on that fateful dig; but after the healing weekend at the loft with Jim he had taken the first step towards that normalcy again.

The detective and grad student entered the Bullpen and there were many greetings from the other members of Major Crimes who were all glad to see Blair back. Simon had heard the exchange when the two had appeared and immediately called them into his office.

“You’re looking better, Sandburg,” the captain replied as the two men came into his office.

“I feel better, Simon. Thank you for what you did…you…” but the captain held up his hands to forestall the young man, before he got too mushy on him.

“We did what we had to,” Simon replied wanting no nonsense as he had an image to maintain. Then he moved on to business. “I had a call first thing this morning from a Detective Herman Dacio of San Merced Police about Sandburg’s escape. He wondered if I knew anything about it and how I got home so quickly considering we didn’t use our commercial airline tickets.”

“You won’t get in any trouble or anything will you?” Blair asked concerned that the captain had risked too much for him.

“No, he didn’t seem that concerned to be honest. I think they’ve got bigger problems than one escaped anthropologist,” Simon explained. He looked at his detective and then the Police observer. “There were four deaths at the prison when we sprung Sandburg.”

“What!” Blair exploded, unable to believe people had died because of him.

“Two guards, the warden and the doctor,” Simon stated sadly.

“Oh no!” Blair exclaimed. “Not Doctor Yniguez.”

Simon nodded “I’m sorry, Blair,” he said compassionately. “It seems a guard injured the doctor and the doctor killed the warden. The San Merced Police won’t be taking it any further as I think they want to forget the whole incident. There’s no extradition between our two countries. You’re free, Blair,” Simon said. 

“Yeah, free,” Blair replied too shocked by Dr Yniguez’s death to feel any happiness at finally being able to put that ordeal behind him.

Blair moved over to the window pretending to look out as he processed what the head of Major Crimes was telling him.

“It’s not your fault, Chief.”

“But if I hadn’t have been arrested and sent to that place.”

“The woman who put the drugs in your room is the person responsible, she started this.”

“What are you going to do, Jim?” Simon asked.

“Finish it!” he replied simply. “I’m going to find her and nail her, Simon.”

Simon nodded giving his detective authorisation to do whatever it took to find the mysterious woman.

“Come on, Chief, we’ve got work to do.”

Back at his desk the detective picked up the reports he had collated on Blair’s case. He had a list of all the names of the members of the dig team, a hospital report on Susie Stibson who had been poisoned. She had been poisoned by an amonita mushroom that caused her to become so ill she had to be sent home. She was lucky she had only received a mild dose, as amonita mushrooms had varieties called death cap and destroying angel, and they could easily kill a person. The poison wasn’t discovered until she had returned home and the hospital had done toxicology tests. Only someone on the dig itself could have given it to her. 

Jim perused the list of names. One or more of those seven names knew something about the Susie Stibson poisoning. The detective in Jim speculated that there was probably also a connection to them and the mysterious woman who had set Blair up. The Sentinel glanced at his friend who was sat beside him at his desk. Blair was silent, inanimate and his eyes were unfocusing on a spot opposite his desk that only he could see.

“You okay, Chief?” Jim enquired but there was no response. “Chief?” Jim replied nudging his friend.

“Uh, oh sorry, Jim, I was miles away.”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Yeah fine, just sad I guess. Doctor Yniguez was a good guy. He wanted to help those prisoners. Not all of them are guilty you know or if they are some of them don’t deserve the harsh sentences they received.” The grad student stated thinking about the teenager Raul forced to spend five years in that hellhole for simply stealing. 

“I know, Chief, but there’s nothing you can do for them. I need your help on this list.”

“List?”

“The expedition to El Valparaiso. One of them poisoned Susie Stibson.”

“Poisoned?” Blair replied reaching for his glasses to peruse the list. 

“Toxicology came back with amatoxin. It’s found in amonita mushrooms. It was the reason Susie had to come back so you would have to go, as you were a reserve student for the expedition. Do you know any of them?”

“I know Professor Smithson pretty well, he’s a good guy, informative and genuine. The others I know fairly well, they all seem pretty decent.”

“Well one of them is a poisoner.”

“Did anyone speak to Susie at the hospital?”

“Henry took a statement from her but she didn’t notice anything suspicious.”

“Has anyone else been sick?” Blair asked.

“No, only Susie.”

Jim put the expedition’s names into the Police database and came up with a hit. Clive Cole had a rap sheet. 

“Clive Cole, aged twenty-four.”

“Clive’s an okay guy, a bit a distant but always says hello,” Blair said. 

“Well eighteen months previously he was arrested for drugs possession. Same charges as you, Chief. Seems the charges were dropped against him. Another man was arrested at the same time. A Leo Hanbury.”

“Leo Hanbury,” the grad student said thoughtfully thinking about the name. “That name sounds familiar.”

“Seems Hanbury jumped bail before his court case and disappeared.”

“I remember Leo Hanbury he was a student of mine. He had a terrible attitude and his school work was even worse. I had to give him a failing grade and he eventually dropped out of school.”

“When was this?” the detective asked his friend.

“I’d say about two years ago.”

Jim checked Leo’s record but other than the arrest eighteen months ago and skipping bail, there were no other reports.

“I think we ought to speak to this Clive Cole,” Jim said.

“The expedition returned early, this weekend. When I spoke to Annabelle, a TA friend, she told me that after Susie, and then my arrest, they thought the whole expedition was jinxed or something. They voted to return as soon as possible. I know the dig group are meeting this morning at the university, Clive should be there.”

“Let’s go.”

:-)(-:  
RAINIER UNIVERSITY

The two men made their way to Rainier University. Blair was silent during the drive in Jim’s blue and white truck. Jim knew he was still processing the news about the doctor’s death. The doctor had been instrumental in Blair’s escape and the Sentinel knew that without his help, it would have been a lot harder to have gotten in and out of the prison. By design prisons were places that were engineered to be escape proof. 

Jim glanced over at his friend concerned for him.

“Blair?”

“I’m alright, Jim, I know you’re worried. I was just a little shocked you know…the doctor…it’s just hard. I thought it would be all over once we got back. Bruises would fade along with the memory of that place…but it’s not. I’m not sure….”

“You’ll be okay, Blair, it just takes time.”

“I know,” the anthropologist replied with the hint of a smile on his lips, as he brushed aside his melancholy thoughts. “So what’s the plan?

“I want to speak to each individual on the team, but especially to Clive Cole.”

The dig group were deep in their meeting when Jim and Blair entered. Jim introduced himself to Professor Smithson, showing him his badge, and asked to speak to all of the team. The professor was more than happy to help. He was particularly pleased to see that Blair was okay, despite the spectacular bruising visible on his face. 

As Jim spoke to each member of the expedition in an official capacity, Blair spoke with them as a fellow Rainier colleague. When the Sentinel spoke to Clive Cole the man’s heartbeat immediately spiked. He knew more than he was willing to say. Jim wanted to haul his ass down to the station. He didn’t have any cause other than his Sentinel-senses and the knowledge of a prior arrest but with no conviction. Jim knew he was their man; he just had to find a way to get him to divulge what he knew.

:-)(-:

CLIVE COLE’S RESIDENCE

Clive Cole left uni early and went home. Luckily his roommate was out; he didn’t want anyone to overhear the conversation he was about to have.

“Hello,” the voice said on the other end of the line as the call connected.

“It’s me,” Clive Cole’s voice was nervous. “The Police are on to us. They came to see me today.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing!!”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

“But they know Susie was poisoned and that it had to be one of us on the group.”

“Don’t panic, Clive. They have nothing otherwise they would have made an arrest already. Stay calm and keep acting normally. It will all die down.”

“I don’t know,” he replied and the strain was all too evident in his voice. 

“Don’t blow it. All you did was give someone some poison. You could say it was accidental, that you didn’t know the mushrooms were poisonous and you panicked when you realised how sick she became.”

“Do you think they’ll buy it?”

“Of course they will. Don’t worry I’ll sort everything out.”

“Okay,” Clive replied feeling reassured and positive it would be alright after all. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” the mysterious woman said as she put down the phone. Clive Cole was one liability that was not going to stand in her way. She had planned Blair Sandburg’s downfall for too long, to let a panicking university student destroy it.

She smiled evilly to herself as she thought about the object of her abhorrence and hatred. Her first plan might not have worked out and Blair Sandburg was not rotting in prison for the next twenty years as she had planned. But she had a new plan and had worse in store for Blair Sandburg. 

Much worse.

:-)(-:

PUB IN DOWNTOWN CASCADE

The Mustang Bar was a trendy establishment that sometimes had live entertainment, including comedians and various entertainers. There was always music blaring in the background of some variety. This night it was a jazz night and a saxophone harmony filled the air, as a lone woman stalked into the bar her stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floor. She went straight to the back to a small booth where two men sat nursing two nearly finished beers. 

“You Cooksey and Grayshott?” she asked forthrightly.

“Yeah, that’s us,” Andrew Grayshott replied.

“You’ve both come highly recommended,” she said sitting down opposite them. Her emerald green eyes bore into each man, as if she was apprising them of their worthiness. 

“We always get the job done,” Derron Cooksey replied.

“I have a little job for you both,” she replied as she reached inside her black Gucci handbag and pulled out a small black case. She put the case down on the table and pushed it towards the two men. Grayshott undid the zip and looked at the contents, his eyebrows rising with questions.

Then the green-eyed woman outlined what she wanted them to do. The two smiled as she gave them details, every now and again her eyes darting round their surroundings, to make sure they weren’t being overheard.

“We can do that,” Cooksey said.

Then she took out an envelope and pushed it over the table towards them. 

“$10,000 now and another $10,000 when the job is done,” she detailed.

“Gee, what’s this Blair Sandburg done to you for you to want us to inflict this on him?” Grayshott asked, glad he wasn’t the object of her hatred.

“That’s my business. I’m paying you to do a job. Call me when you have Sandburg,” she said getting up and leaving without a backwards glance.

The two men looked at each other and counted the money between them; five thousand now and five thousand on completion of their task. They smiled as they finished their beers. Easiest ten grand they’d ever make they mused.

:-)(-:

THE LOFT

The rest of the week went by normally, as they both slipped into their usual daily routines. With the one exception that whenever Blair was at the university, so was Jim. He shadowed him to every lecture and every class he taught. Blair tried to argue that it was overkill but the Sentinel was at the fore and he would protect his friend at all costs. Jim argued that he could do his paperwork just as well whether he was sat at his desk in Major Crimes or sat in one of the uni’s lecture rooms. Blair just went with the flow. 

Finally it was the weekend and they both had two days free. Blair wanted the down time to kick back as he was still recovering from his ordeal in prison. The bruises on his face and body were starting to fade but the memories would take longer to disappear. If he woke up in the night, the darkness surrounding him, it would take him a few moments to remember he was safe and home. A few moments of heart stopping panic finally cleared with the memory of being rescued and Blair would sigh and lie back and go back to sleep.

Blair opened his eyes and realised it was early and he smiled as he remembered it was Saturday. It was pure joy to be able to roll over in bed, go back to sleep and sleep in a bit late. A little later he heard Jim moving round in the kitchen and decided to get up. He stretched and got out of bed. The Sentinel was sat at the table as Blair emerged from his room. He could see his friend had a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper spread out in front of him.

“Morning, Chief,” he said looking up briefly to acknowledge his roommate.

“Morning, Jim,” he replied stumbling into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It felt good as the hot, strong aromatic brew slid over his tongue.

“Go have a shower, Chief, and I’ll start breakfast.”

Blair nodded as he stumbled to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later and the two men were tucking into blueberry pancakes. 

“I thought I’d go to the mall this morning and do some grocery shopping. We’re out of a few things,” Blair said between bites.

“Not without me, Junior.”

“Jim,” the grad student started to protest but changed his mind. “Okay, blessed protector, whatever you say.”

The detective could tell the ‘bodyguard’ routine was wearing thin on his friend.

“You know I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

“I know, Jim,” Blair sighed.

“Until we solve the case and the mysterious woman is apprehended you’re still in danger.”

“Is that why you search my clothing and backpack every night I come home?”

“She got you convicted of drugs possession once, Chief, I’m not taking the chances that she’ll do it again.”

“This all hinges on the fact that she’s still after me. It might have been a one off and she’s long gone. How long can you keep dogging me, Jim?”

“For as long as it takes, Blair.”

“What if I have a date?”

“We either double date or you have a chaperone.”

Blair rolled his eyes but he wasn’t mad, as he knew his roommate was just being a good friend and looking out for his best interests. He didn’t want to spend another moment in any prison anywhere.

After the kitchen was tidied the two men left to do their shopping. They drove to the mall and arrived just after 9am. The extensive car park was already packed full of cars as the shoppers were eager to part with their money. 

They looked round a few shops first before doing their grocery shopping. As they left one store they saw a commotion and a group of people encircling something on the floor. Jim went immediately over to see if he could help. Blair followed his roommate until a man stopped him and asked for directions.

The detective found a woman lying on the floor. She had fainted and his medical training immediately kicked in as he stopped to help her. She came round after a few moments and seemed fine. She hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning and had been dashing round trying to get all her shopping done as quickly as she could. Jim told her she ought to go to hospital and get herself checked out, but the woman waved it off. She had fainted before when she hadn’t eaten breakfast. The woman got up gingerly and not a little embarrassed and said she was fine. It was then that Jim remembered Blair. He looked round him but the grad student wasn’t anywhere nearby. He called his name and then stopped to ask a few people in the crowd if they had seen someone with him and gave them Blair’s general description. But no one had. They had been watching, too engrossed in the commotion with the young woman, to notice anything else.

Jim was beginning to think his Good Samaritan act had just given Blair’s tormentor the time she needed to take him.

The Sentinel moved round the immediately area, hoping that Blair was just talking to someone or had gone into a nearby shop. But he knew he wouldn’t have left the scene without telling him. Jim saw a mall security guard and showed him his badge and informed him to put out a description of his partner to the mall’s other security personnel. Jim phoned for Police assistance so the area could be canvassed as soon as possible and then he phoned Simon. 

As he spoke to his captain on his cellphone he walked back out to where his truck was parked. Opening the door he stood on the truck’s ledge which raised him higher than the surrounding vehicles and using his Sentinel vision he checked the vicinity for Blair or anything suspicious. He came up with nothing.

/Damn/ Jim thought as he looked and looked again. Whoever had taken his friend had been swift and decisive. There was no trace of the anthropologist.

Blair had simply vanished.

:-)(-:

BASEMENT OF DERELICT HOUSE

Blair slowly surfaced to consciousness. It took him a few moments to remember what had happened. He had been at the mall with Jim who had gone to someone’s aid. He’d stopped to give someone directions and then a second man had come up beside him and he had felt a gun in his side. The men told him to go with them or they would shoot everyone else. The anthropologist had taken one look at the crowd and knew his only option had been to comply with the two men. 

He felt more alert and realised the chloroform was wearing off. As soon as they had gotten to a grey van he had felt the damp cloth move over his nose and mouth and he’d been unable to resist the potency of the fumes as they knocked him out.

It was dark and he was lying down on something cold and hard. There was a musty smell in the air and it was damp and fetid. He tried to move but it was difficult. He realised his hands were tied behind his back. He also realised it was still dark and his eyes wouldn’t open fully. It was then he felt the material wrapped round his head and realised he was blindfolded.

He’d been taken by two men and he realised he hadn’t gotten a good look at either of them. The first man had approached him with his head down looking at a map in his hand and a baseball cap on his head. The second man had come up behind him. They had ordered him to keep looking ahead as they walked out of the busy mall. Blair wondered if it was connected to the mysterious woman who seemed to be gunning for him. Were they her paid lackeys? It didn’t matter who they were, he was still here, wherever here was, trussed up like a chicken waiting for the slaughter. Not a great analogy he berated himself as he struggled with the bonds. They bit into his wrists and wouldn’t yield. He sat up and immediately felt dizzy. It passed after a few seconds, but with the enforced darkness of the blindfold, he felt disorientated.

Then he felt a slight draught on his face and he heard footsteps ahead of him. It sounded like feet descending a wooden staircase and he reasoned he was in a basement somewhere. Then a second set of footsteps descended the wooden steps but these were unmistakably the footsteps of a high heeled woman, followed by another man. 

“Hello,” Blair said after a few moments of silence. “What do you want with me?”

There was nothing but silence but then he could hear the woman’s footsteps going back up the stairs. What kind of game were they playing?

“Who are you?” Blair asked as the woman walked up the wooden steps. The footsteps stopped for a moment and then continued their assent. “What do you want with me?” Blair repeated but she didn’t answer and then she was gone and he was left with the two men.

Blair felt both his arms pinned to his side by one of the men, as the other removed the bindings to his hands. The anthropologist didn’t have time to get the circulation going in his hands as he felt the left sleeve of his shirt roughly pulled up. He felt a hand roughly brace his forearm, as the second set of hands braced him from behind. Something was wrapped tightly around his upper left arm and then fingers prodded his forearm. Blair was a little confused and scared. What were they doing? Then he felt the bite of a needle in his forearm near to the elbow fold and something warm flooded into his arm. 

/Oh great, they’re drugging me now/ the grad student thought as the warmth flooded him and he immediately felt its effects. It filled him everywhere, even his skin felt warm.

“Enjoy the trip kid,” one of the men said in the darkness. “It’s the first of a very long ride.”

It was then that Blair realised it wasn’t just a normal drug that was making him feel so incredible, it was much more sinister than that.

“What…” Blair uttered, though talking seemed more difficult than it normally was for the gregarious grad student. “Drug?”

“Heroin, kid,” said the second disembodied voice. “Courtesy of your lady friend.” It sounded like the voice was happy to be inflicting this on him. “She wants you nice and high. So enjoy it, kid.”

“No!” Blair said as his arms and legs began to feel heavy and relaxed. He tried to fight the drug but it was omnipotent and overwhelmed him. The hands holding him let him go and he sank to the floor feeling boneless and insubstantial. He couldn’t help but give in to the rush the drug was giving him. 

‘The first of a very long ride’ the man had said.

/Oh God,/ Blair thought as his brain decided it needed some holiday time too and thought was becoming increasingly more difficult. Blair felt himself drift off somewhere he didn’t want to go, not asleep exactly but not awake either.

:-)(-:

CASCADE MALL

“So what we got, Jim?” the Captain asked, as he arrived on the scene. 

“Zip!” the detective replied dejectedly. “No one saw a thing. How can a lively and larger than life anthropologist disappear in broad daylight in a crowded mall?”

“You tell me, Jim?”

Simon looked round at the scene. There were uniformed cops and plain clothed cops everywhere, talking to witnesses and asking if they had seen anything. As soon as Jim had called it in the mall had quickly been crawling with Police officers and mall security, but so far there was nothing. His captain had responded as soon as Jim had called him. 

“It’s her isn’t it?” Simon said more as a statement than a question.

Jim nodded sadly; it was what he had concluded. She had taken him, whoever she was. God, they had to get some information on her, who she was, and why she wanted his partner. 

“We’ll find him, Jim?” the captain said putting his hand on Jim’s shoulder encouragingly.

“How?”

“Through detective work, Jim, like always.”

“We don’t know where to start. There are no leads, nothing,” the former covert ops Ranger’s voice was getting angrier as he spoke. “I let them grab him, Simon,” now the voice held recrimination.

“You’re not superhuman. You did your best to keep the kid safe.”

“I should have seen it coming, Simon. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Use a distraction to strike and I fell for it.”

“Jim, it’s happened. Now we have to focus on finding Blair. Okay, detective?”

“Yes, sir,” the detective replied pulling himself together. 

“So, Jim, what have you got?”

“Security is getting me the surveillance tapes from here and the parking lot.”

“Good,” Simon replied, glad that his detective was once again focused on the job in hand.

“What else?”

“I’m going to speak to Susie Stibson, she was the girl who was poisoned on the archaeological dig that started all this. My gut is telling me to speak to Clive Cole again, he was on the dig and he’s got form for drugs possession.”

“Could be a coincidence,” Simon replied. “But a highly unlikely one. Okay, Jim, I want in on this.”

“Captain?”

“I may be your captain and spend a lot of my time behind my desk, but I was, and still am, a damn fine detective. We are going to find Sandburg. I’ll back you up all the way here.”

“Thanks, Simon,” the Sentinel replied feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand. 

Jim had saved Blair’s life before from maniacs like David Lash and Dawson Quinn but there was something about this mysterious woman that was unsettling. She was meticulous in her planning and patient. There was something gnawing at Jim’s gut, telling him that this wasn’t going to end easily. He didn’t know what but there was an uneasiness inside him that wouldn’t go away.

All the detective knew was that he had to find his friend and find him fast. With a nod at his captain, the two detectives silently got to work to find their missing friend.

:-)(-:

BASEMENT OF DERELICT HOUSE

Blair tried to get his thoughts in order, but they were chaotic and it was like trying to think through a sea of molasses. Finally things started to clear as the drug’s effects waned. He wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed as his eyes were still blindfolded. His hands were free as were his legs and he was lying on the cold, hard floor where the two men had left him. He pushed himself to a sitting position and moved his hands up to the blindfold. He had to escape whilst he could. 

But then he heard the footsteps on the staircase, his ears detecting an annoying squeak in one of them. Blair tried to scoot backwards but he soon came up to a cold brick wall and he couldn’t move any further. His actions were still influenced by the effects of the heroin and he felt unco-ordinated and awkward.

A pair of hands roughly grabbed him.

“Get off me, man!!” the grad student shouted.

But the words were left unanswered as he felt another hand pull up his shirt’s sleeve again.

“No!” Blair screamed knowing exactly what they wanted to do to him again. He tried to prise his arm away but it was held in a vice-like grip, the fingers of that hand digging into the flesh of his arm painfully. Then he felt the inevitable pinprick of the needle as it pierced his skin and the warmth of the drug as it entered his system.

/Oh God, not again/ Blair had time to think before the euphoria overwhelmed him and he didn’t need to think anymore as the warmth caressed every part of his being. He felt such an intense feeling of pleasure coursing through him; his drug induced brain began to see why people did drugs, if it made you feel so good. He didn’t need to think anymore, he just let the drug sweep him away.

The incredible feeling of euphoria returned every time they injected him. Blair wasn’t sure how often they had injected him, he couldn’t fight them and they were too strong. And now he didn’t want to, the drug took away all his responsibilities and he willingly rode along with the ecstasy.

Derron Cooksey and Andrew Grayshott looked down at the form of Blair Sandburg lying at their feet. They had removed the blindfold. There was no need for it now; the man was too spaced out to recognise them. He had taken to the drug very well, not even fighting them anymore as they regularly dosed him with it. Every user was different and an initial hit could last for up to 6 to 7 hours before the user needed more. They also knew that the more you used heroin the more dependent on it you became, so much so that a user had to reinject every 2 to 4 hours just to stop the withdrawal symptoms. They hadn’t reached that stage yet but the young man was getting more dependent on the white powder with each hit.

The lady had paid them to make the kid dependent on the drug, why they didn’t know and they didn’t really care. All they knew was that she was paying them well to do a job.

They left the young man to his high.

:-)(-:

MAJOR CRIMES, CASCADE PD

Jim worked tirelessly to find his missing partner. He reviewed the surveillance tapes from the mall. He saw Blair being escorted to a grey van but the detail was not sharp enough to see any defining details, like the van’s licence number. Forensics had the tape to try and enhance the licence plate, but it was taking forever and didn’t look too hopeful. 

Jim spoke to Susie Stibson about her poisoning in El Valparaiso, but the young woman didn’t know much about it. She didn’t know who could have put the poisonous mushroom into her food. The detective told her that he was glad she was getting better. A lot of people weren’t so lucky and died from amatoxins from amonita mushrooms.

Then, Jim picked up Clive Cole for further questioning. 

:-)(-:

INTERROGATION ROOM, CASCADE PD

Jim Ellison prowled round the edges of the small room. The object of his inquisition sat huddled in a chair in the centre of the room.

“I don’t know anything!” Clive Cole said. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“You can tell me that you don’t know anything a million times and I still won’t believe you. Now my partner has been taken and I want to know where he is!” Jim said emphatically.

“I don’t know, I swear I would tell you if I knew. I know Blair from the uni, I like him, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”

He honestly didn’t know where Blair was. Clive cursed his luck that he had gotten involved with that she-devil. All he had done was poison the grad student on the dig. Clive wasn’t happy; he knew Ellison was trying to wear him down to confess. All he had to do was not say anything and it would all be alright. God!! Why had he let that bitch talk him into poisoning that girl Susie? But Clive knew the reason, her stupid idea of revenge. Now where had it gotten him? On the receiving end of a cop’s scrutiny, and judging by the way the cop was venting over his missing partner, it wasn’t looking too good for him.

“You and Leo Hanbury were busted together,” Jim threw the name at the man and was startled when his heartbeat spiked suddenly. The name had touched something. 

“Have you seen Leo Hanbury recently?” the detective inquired.

The man smiled despite the sheen of perspiration on his face from the fear that the large cop, who was stalking him round the small interrogation room, was instilling in him.

“Not unless I employed a medium,” and Jim’s eyes narrowed. “He’s dead, man.”

Jim felt his break slipping through his fingers.

“Let’s start from the beginning shall we. What do you know about amonita mushrooms? Who hired you to poison Susie Stibson? And where is Blair Sandburg?”

Clive Cole groaned and closed his eyes. The cop was like a dog with a bone. 

:-)(-:

BASEMENT OF DERELICT HOUSE

Blair was unaware of time. There was no natural light in the basement and time moved at its own pace. All Blair was focused on was when his next fix was coming. The drug was everything. He didn’t care about anything else. He was oblivious of rational thought most of the time, but the scant time that he was aware, he tried to retreat from it, afraid of what he would think of himself. And worse what Jim would think of him.

There was nothing but pain when the drug started to wear off. His skin felt like it was on fire, it itched everywhere until the heroin took everything away and he felt its bliss cascade round his body. 

Blair remembered the name of the drug they were injecting with him. He felt revulsion that he was secretly wishing for more and more of the drug. But the feeling you got when it was injected into you was incredible. Every part of your body felt alive and receptive to everything. 

The drug was wearing off, Blair could feel its effects slipping away. He needed more. No he told himself he had to escape. This wasn’t living. He had to find Jim. Jim would help him. Blair’s eyes moved to the door above the wooden staircase. They’d be coming soon. He knew he had to get out of there, they probably wouldn’t give him the drug indefinitely anyway. Why would they? 

Getting to his feet wasn’t easy, but he picked himself up and swayed briefly as he regained his equilibrium. Then he made his way up the staircase as silently as he could. The basement was only lit by one bare light bulb, so the basement wasn’t overly bright. Blair leaned on the wall near where the door would open. He didn’t know how long he waited but it didn’t feel like long; he could almost hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. He heard voices and then the door started to open. He used the element of surprise to yank the first man in through the door, he could see the syringe with the heroin in his hand but he ignored it. The man went barrelling down the stairs frontwards. Blair didn’t stop to think; he barrelled into the man behind him, knocking him over and went for the nearest door. It lead into a kitchen and an outer door. Blair was out, unlocking the door with fumbling fingers, glad the men had left the key in the lock. 

Outside it was night and it was raining. Immediately Blair went round the edge of the house to the front garden and ran to the street. It was quiet, a few streetlights lit the area but it looked deserted. Litter was strewn in the gutter and there were houses on both sides of the road. Blair thought about knocking at one of the houses but if it was empty and the men heard him, they could recapture him again. The anthropologist ran over the street diagonally and then ran as fast as he could until he went round a corner and out of sight of the house. He heard a dog barking nearby but he didn’t pay it any heed. He could hear his own heavy breathing loudly in his ears as he pushed himself to get himself as far from the scene of his imprisonment as he could. 

Finally he couldn’t run any further, exhaustion and suffering from the beginning effects of not receiving another hit of the drug, were starting to take their toll on the grad student. Blair stopped, a painful stitch in his side ached. He looked around him with bleary eyes wondering what to do. He needed help. He needed Jim. He spied a payphone. He didn’t have any money on him; the men had emptied his pockets when they’d first taken him. 

He ran to the pay phone and took the phone off the receiver. He pushed ‘911’ and sank down on the phone box’s floor as far as the phone’s cord would let the phone go. When he was connected the grad student could barely speak.

“I...need....” he panted.

“Do you need help, sir?” the operator asked.

“Need... Detective Jim Ellison, Central Division...” a wave of pain stopped him saying any more and he grimaced.

“Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance, sir?”

“No....no, ambulance. Detective Ellison....”

“What’s your name?” but Blair didn’t reply, speaking was becoming increasingly more difficult. “Do you know where you are?”

“No. Detective Ellison,” he gasped his Sentinel’s name.

“I can trace your call and contact him. Stay on the line and I’ll contact him.”

It was nearly midnight when Jim received the call. He was lying in bed alone at the loft, unable to sleep thinking about Blair. He’d been gone for 3 days and he hadn’t been able to find him. He was out of bed in seconds when the 911 operator told him about the call they’d received. The caller kept repeating his name. The Sentinel just knew it was his Guide. The operator located the number and then the address of the payphone the caller was calling from and relayed it to Jim. 

Jim dressed in seconds and was running to the front door. The operator told him that the caller had cleared the line when she had gotten back to him. Jim cancelled the call; he had an address that was all he needed.

His blue light rebounded off the buildings round the phone box as he brought the blue and white pick up to a screeching halt. He immediately got out and ran to the phone box. It was empty. He looked round, listening with his Sentinel hearing. He detected a heartbeat behind him, beating erratically and elevatedly. He turned and saw it was a dark alley. The rain was still falling in a persistent drizzle. He moved quickly to the darkened alley which was strewn with dumpsters and boxes of debris. 

His Sentinel eyesight kicked in and he saw a huddled figure hiding behind one of those dumpsters.

“Blair?”

The detective moved slowly forward as the figure started to try to back-up and hide even further into the darkness of the alley. 

“Easy, Chief, it’s only me.”

On recognition of the familiar nickname Blair’s eyes focused on his friend.

“Jim…?”

“Yeah, kid, it’s me.”

“Jim!”

Then the Sentinel was kneeling down beside his friend and he put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

“No...Jim...they used...” and the detective could see the cost it took for his friend to speak and something else, almost a reticence to tell him. “Drugs,” he finally admitted.

Blair held up his arms and Jim moved the long sleeve back to reveal the track marks on both of his friend’s arms.

“Oh God!” he said. “We have to get you to a hospital.” He reached inside his jacket for his cellphone.

“No,” Blair replied adamantly. “No hospital.”

“Blair, you need help.”

“Jim, if I go to hospital...there will be questions.” Blair gasped for breath. “My academic career will be over.”

“But, Blair, you’re the victim here.”

“You know I’m right.” And Blair sank back exhausted.

“Okay,” the Sentinel replied understanding but not happy about it. He took his jacket off and slipped it round his cold and wet friend. He helped his friend stand and Blair leant heavily on the detective.

“Do you know what drug they used?”

The grad student hesitated for a moment and then stated quietly “Heroin.” 

“God!” Jim grimaced, this was just getting better and better he thought sarcastically.

Jim helped the grad student to his truck and into the passenger seat. He moved round to the driver’s side thinking all the time of what to do. He decided he couldn’t go to the loft for a number of reasons, he needed to take Blair somewhere safe but unknown. Blair had a difficult time ahead of him and the detective wanted somewhere neutral where he could take his friend and care for him.

The detective sat in his truck and glanced over at his friend. Blair was shivering with cold and something else. His skin looked clammy and his hair was sticking to his head from the insistent rain. He pushed a few buttons on his cellphone.

“Simon, it’s Jim, I’ve got Blair.”

“Thank God. Is he okay?” Simon had been asleep but he was fully awake now that his detective had announced he had found the grad student. The whole of Major Crimes had been working tirelessly for days in trying to locate the young anthropologist. 

“Yes, but there’s more to it. Simon, I need the address of a safe house where I can take Blair for a few days.”

“Safe house? What’s going on, Jim?”

“I’ll explain later. I need help on this one.”

“Give me a few minutes. I’ll call you back.”

The detective started the truck and started to drive away. He glanced over at his friend who was huddled in his jacket and shivering visibly.

“Blair, do you know who took you?”

“Two men. Didn’t really….see their faces too clearly.”

“Do you know where?”

“No. In a basement. I ran.”

“For how long?”

“Don’t know,” and the grad students head lolled back on the seat. He was exhausted.

“Do you know where?”

“No,” and his eyes closed for a moment. “Too tired, man.”

Then Jim’s cellphone rang.

“Jim, it’s Simon, I’ve got you an emergency safe house, Six and Lexington, house 25. The keys are at Headquarters.”

“I can get in easily myself. Can you drop the keys in tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Can you bring some food and clean clothes for us?”

“Sure, what’s going on, Jim?”

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow, sir. Okay?”

“Okay, Jim. Take care of the kid.”

The captain didn’t know what was going on but he knew he trusted his detective implicitly. 

“Thanks, captain,” and the detective cut the connection.

:-)(-:

SAFE HOUSE

Jim pulled up in the driveway of the safe house, noting immediately that it was a quiet neighbourhood, though it was nearly 1am. Blair was half asleep as the detective left him a few moments in the truck to ‘break-in’ to the house. It was a bungalow with a door at the front and one at the side. Jim went to the side one where he would be less observed, if any neighbours happened to be looking. It only took him a few moments to unlock the door with the use of his Sentinel abilities and a small piece of wire.

The side door lead into a kitchen and a lounge area beyond that. It seemed safe enough. Then Jim went back for his partner. He helped him out of the truck and into the house. Blair sat sluggishly on the sofa as the detective checked out the rest of the house. When he returned to the lounge his friend was lying back with his head resting against the back of the sofa. He looked listless and his eyes were closed. Jim couldn’t begin to know what he had been through. The Sentinel felt like falling apart but he knew he couldn’t, he had to be strong to get Blair through this.

Steeling himself Jim went to his friend’s side and sat down beside him.

“Hey, Blair, how you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” he replied honestly, his eyes remaining closed. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“Anytime. I want to help you, Blair?”

“Man, I want to have a very long, hot shower,” Blair replied opening his eyes and looking at his Sentinel.

“Blair,” Jim said earnestly, not really sure how to ask the question he knew he had to ask. “Do you know when they gave you your last fix?”

Blair balked at the question, but knew Jim had to ask it. He shook his head. “Time had no meaning, I was in a basement, and I didn’t know if it was day or night. It was a while ago I think.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Okay, a little light headed I guess.”

“That might be because you’re hungry. Do you know when you last ate?”

“They gave me food and water periodically. A lot of it’s a haze.”

“Do you feel strung out now?” Jim asked, as he had to know when the withdrawal was likely to truly start.

“No, I feel sort of mellow. Not quite here. Sort of spaced out I guess.”

“Have that shower then. I’ll see if I can find you some clean clothes.”

As Blair showered Jim hunted through the drawers in the bedrooms. There wasn’t much but he managed to find a T-shirt and some sweats. They would be too big for Blair but they would do until Simon could come by. Jim shouted through the closed bathroom door that there were some clean clothes out on the bed. Blair was still in the shower and not planning to come out anytime soon, it sounded like. 

Jim busied himself in the kitchen as Blair finished trying to wash away his ordeal.

There wasn’t much in the kitchen. This was an emergency safe house. There were only items that had a long shelf life, mainly tinned stuff. There was instant coffee, which was better than nothing. Jim boiled the kettle and was just heating up some tinned chilli when Blair emerged. 

He looked marginally better than he had before the shower, but the Sentinel knew it was going to be a long night.

“Coffee?”

“Thanks,” Blair said calmly as he sat wearily at the kitchen table. 

“Hungry?”

The anthropologist shook his head as he took a sip of the coffee. It was strong. He tried a second sip but it didn’t feel like it was sitting too comfortably in his stomach, so he pushed the mug aside. Blair got up instead and walked to the kitchen window, suddenly feeling restless. He couldn’t keep still and needed to be doing something, anything. The Sentinel stood at the stove stirring the chilli, as he surreptitiously kept an eye on his friend.

“You okay there, Chief?”

“Yeah,” Blair replied instantly, almost nervously, as he rubbed his hands together and then wrapped his arms around himself, as if he suddenly felt a chill go through his body.

The Sentinel knew the withdrawal had already started and had before he had located him. Heroin withdrawal had a variety of side effects and none of them were very pleasant. It was going to be a very rough night. 

“Chilli’s ready,” Jim stated turning the heat off the hob.

“Not hungry. Think I’ll watch some TV or read a bit if I can find a book.”

“I noticed some paperbacks in the lounge,” Jim replied knowing that Blair wouldn’t be able to concentrate long enough to read a paragraph let alone a chapter.

Jim sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of chilli, not really eating it, but stirring it round and round in the bowl. He was wondering what he was going to do about his partner and also bringing the people responsible for his condition to justice. A cry halted his thoughts and the kitchen chair fell back with a clatter onto the floor, as he shot to his feet and ran into the lounge.

“Blair!!!” he cried.

Jim found his friend lying in a foetal ball on the lounge floor shaking uncontrollably.

“Hurts....Jim,” Blair admonished as he wrapped his arms round his stomach.

“Where?” his friend asked as he knelt down behind him.

“Stomach, muscles...” Blair grimaced against the pain.

Jim could see a cold sweat was enveloping his friend leaving a wet patch on the front and back of the grey T-shirt.

“Sick...” Blair said as his teeth chattered from the cold feeling that had seeped into every part of his being.

The detective spotted a waste paper basket and immediately grabbed it. He brought it to his stricken friend just in time as he heaved the contents of his stomach into it. More dry retches followed and then Blair was finished. Jim moved the item aside to deal with later. 

“Let’s get you onto the sofa, buddy,” Jim said compassionately.

Blair let his friend pull him to his feet and guide him gently to the sofa. He sank back on it as cold shivers continued to wrack his body.

Jim left his friend for a few moments and went to the kitchen and ran some warm water into a bowl. He found a wash cloth and then returned to his friend. Using the wash cloth he applied a soothing compress to his friend’s forehead and then wiped away the cold sweat that was sheening his face. 

Blair’s eyes opened and closed as he fought the internal battle as the need for heroin overwhelmed his body.

“Jim?”

“I’m here, Chief.”

“Oh, Jim…”

“I know, buddy, it’s rough, but it will get better,” the Sentinel tried to sound positive and hoped the fear he was feeling wasn’t evident in his voice.

“I just need....”

“What do you need?” Jim asked knowing he would grant his friend anything in his power if he was able to do so.

“A little bit, just a little bit of the drug to help me. It won’t hurt so much then...” and the grad student gritted his teeth as a spasm of pain ripped through his lower body.

“You know I can’t do that, buddy.”

“Because you’re a cop!!” Blair spat the words out angrily. 

“No, because I’m your friend.”

Blair turned his head away for a few seconds and when he turned his head back, the Sentinel could see tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“No, you didn’t,” the Sentinel replied sympathetically, “but you are going to get through it. You may feel like hell for a little while, but you are going to be okay.”

“Help me, Jim,” Blair pleaded.

“I will, buddy, I will.”

The Sentinel gripped his friend’s right hand with his left, to show his support and the anthropologist was grateful for his friend’s encouragement and for him being there for him.

All night Jim was on hand to help his friend as he alternated between cold sweats, debilitating pain and vomiting. The detective was worried his friend would get dehydrated as any water he tried to coax him to drink came straight back up again. When Blair was shivering and a cold sweat wracked his frame, Jim would gently wipe away the perspiration and try to make his friend as comfortable as possible.

Blair tried to sleep but he found he couldn’t. He felt too wired and anxious. He wanted to read but when he picked up a book he couldn’t be bothered to look at the words. He walked round the living room and the kitchen. He lay down on the bed but tossed left and right. He rubbed his hands together and hugged himself, when his hands felt edgy and fidgety.

Jim was always on hand even if it was just in the background. He didn’t want to crowd his friend when he was feeling agitated, as it could make him worse, so he just hovered waiting to see if he was needed.

Dawn arrived and Blair was finally dozing, but the sleep didn’t last long as nightmares invaded his dreams. Bloody dreams of Jim being murdered in front of his eyes by a suspect with no face he was trying to arrest. The grad student woke up screaming and the Sentinel was there in a moment.

“So real... so much blood...you were dead...” Blair said his breath coming hard and fast.

“Just a dream,” the detective soothed as he sat next to his friend on the bed. 

Blair sat up and listed to his right and the Sentinel instantly took his friend into his arms. Holding him tightly so that he knew he was safe and also that he would know he was there for him.

“It was just a dream, buddy,” he re-iterated.

“Felt...so real...,” Blair gasped but his breathing was starting to return to normal as he realised from his friend’s embrace that he was okay and it had all been in his mind.

“Lie back,” his friend commanded as he could see the exhaustion tugging at his friend.

Blair lay back as commanded and rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes and forced the images away. Jim pulled up the comforter and covered his friend, then stood up. 

Jim felt so impotent. God he hated to see his friend hurting like this. Someone was going to do time for this when the detective got his hands on the people who had done this to his friend.

:-)(-:

There was a light knock to the side door just before 9am. Blair was sleeping as Jim went to the door his weapon drawn.

It was Simon. He had a holdall with him containing some clothing and food. He put the holdall down on the kitchen table and then turned to his detective.

“What’s going on, Jim? Where’s Sandburg? Why all this cloak and dagger?”

“Simon, I...” and the detective took a deep breath. “Don’t know where to start.”

“From the beginning if you have to, but you will tell me.”

“When I found Blair last night, he’d escaped from the people holding him.”

“Did they hurt him? Why isn’t he at a hospital? Jim, what the hell is going on?”

“Simon, they turned him into a heroin addict,” the detective admonished frankly.

“What?” the captain was incredulous.

“He’s got track marks on his arms and he thinks they gave him heroin. He’s been going through withdrawal all night.”

“Who would want to do such a thing to the kid?”

“That’s what I want to find out, sir, once I get Sandburg through the worst.”

“How is he now?

“Not good, Simon. He was up most of the night having nightmares and withdrawal symptoms. It’s pretty rough on him.”

“Especially when the kid didn’t ask for it.”

“Get away...” came a muffled cry from another room.

“He’s waking up,” Jim said and rushed from the room.

Simon kept a discreet distance as the detective rushed into the bedroom.

“Shhh, it’s alright, Blair,” he heard his friend croon.

“...got to get away...” he heard Sandburg’s voice say.

“You’re safe now, kid.”

“Safe?” the kid’s voice sounded confused. 

“Yeah, Chief, you’re safe.”

Blair started to calm at that. He scratched at his skin which was itching everywhere.

“I’m cold, Jim…”

“It’s alright, Blair, I’ll get you another blanket.”

Simon looked to see where extra blankets might be kept but Jim had checked the contents of the house the previous evening and knew where everything was. Jim placed another blanket over his friend and indicated for his captain to go back to the kitchen. Jim glanced down at his suffering friend, who was murmuring again in his agitated sleep. Jim’s face was stony and his eyes held such fury and anger but not aimed at his friend, but solely for the people who had done this to him.

Simon was unpacking some groceries he had brought for the two men, though he wasn’t sure how much Sandburg would be able to consume for a few days until his body had successfully overcome the effects of the drug.

Jim came in a short time later. 

“He’s asleep,” Jim said his voice as exhausted as he looked.

“When was the last time you got some sleep, Jim?” his captain asked.

“I managed to grab a few hours here and there,” the Sentinel replied. “The effects of the drug keep waking him up.”

“You need to eat and sleep yourself; otherwise you’ll be dropping from exhaustion yourself.”

“I’ll be okay, sir. Sandburg just needs to get through the next day and he’ll be over the worst.”

“You don’t have to do it all alone, Jim.”

“The less people that know about what’s happened to Blair the better.”

“I understand that,” the captain replied. “I’ll come by later and spell you so you can get some sleep.”

“I...” Jim started to protest.

“So you can be awake later if you need to be.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“No need to thank me. I’d do it for any of my men,” and Simon’s tone was such that his detective should take it as final.

“It has to be connected to what happened in El Valparaiso,” Jim said to his captain as he made fresh coffee. Hot and strong, the Sentinel knew he was going to need it.

“You think it has something to do with that mystery woman who set Blair up there,” the captain stated.

“I know it does. Blair was set up when drugs were found in his hotel room and then he’s kidnapped and turned into a heroin addict. There’s a connection to drugs and Blair but we just can’t see what yet.”

“Blair is always advocating the use of natural medicines; he would never have anything to do with any sort of hard drugs.”

“I know, sir, it doesn’t make sense. But Simon we find that connection and we’ll blow this case wide open.”

Just then the Sentinel’s head turned towards the room where his partner slept.

“Back in a minute, sir,” Jim said as he raced off to his friend’s side.

Blair was just finishing retching into a bucket as Jim came back into the room. Not that he had managed to bring anything up but bile. Jim moved the bucket aside as he helped his friend lie back in the bed.

“Hey, buddy, how you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Blair uttered truthfully. 

There was some water in a bottle by the side of the bed and the detective poured some into a cup. He helped Blair to drink some of it so he could rinse his mouth out and then spit it out into the bucket. 

“That better?”

“Yeah,” Blair replied. 

Then grad student drank a few sips of the water when his friend brought the cup back to his lips, hoping it would stay down. Jim took stock of his friend’s condition. It wasn’t good. His face was ashen and his skin looked clammy and sickly. He had two huge dark smudges under his eyes and his incredible head of hair was lank and lifeless. Jim left for a few moments and then returned with a bowl of warm water. He rinsed out a wash cloth with the warm water and then mopped the cold sweat from his friend’s face.

“Sorry to be such a burden, man,” Blair uttered his eyes remaining closed, but relishing the feel of the warm water.

“No burden, man,” Jim responded immediately, not wanting his friend to even think that for a moment. “How’s the stomach now?”

“It feels a little more settled,” the grad student replied. “I still feel cold though,” he added as he continued to shivering under the mound of blankets. 

“Any pain anywhere?”

“No, not at the moment, just feel a bit achy.”

“That’s good. Try to sleep some more, you’ll feel better if you do.”

Jim stood to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” Blair asked, his voice almost sounded panicked.

“Just to the kitchen. I’ll hear you if you need me.”

“Sorry, Jim,” Blair replied, feeling a little ashamed to feel so needy of his friend.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

Jim left his friend to sleep a little longer. He wanted to ask him questions about where he had been taken to and where he had escaped from, but they could wait a bit longer until his friend felt a little better.

:-)(-:

The next time Blair woke it was evening. The lamp at the side of the bed was on and the curtains were drawn. He sat up in the bed still feeling awful but his stomach didn’t feel as upset, though his stomach muscles ached from being sick so much before. The door opened and a large silhouette stood in the doorway for a second before moving into the room.

“How you feeling, Sandburg?” Simon Banks asked.

“Better I think,” he replied. “Where’s Jim?”

“Asleep in another room. I said I’d spell him a while.”

“Sorry he’s had to drag you into this.”

“Don’t sweat it, Sandburg,” the captain replied genuinely.

Then Blair gasped in pain as a muscle spasm in his legs took his breath away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just peachy. How do you think?” the grad student shouted as he breathed through the pain. “Sorry, Simon,” Blair immediately apologised. He didn’t mean to snap at his friend, he knew he was only trying to help.

“That’s okay, I understand,” the captain replied brushing it off. It was understandable that the normally genial grad student would be crabby and testy. “You need anything? The kettle’s just boiled. I could bring you a hot cup of tea. I got some peppermint, thought it might help your stomach settle.”

“You’ve been paying attention to what I say after all, when I mention all the attributes and healing abilities of my teas.”

“Yeah, well don’t let it go to your head, Sandburg,” the captain gently teased.

“I won’t,” and Blair smiled.

“I’ll go put the kettle on.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Blair said as he moved his recalcitrant legs to the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure you should get up yet?”

Blair was feeling restless again and needed to be doing something. 

“I’m fine,” the grad student insisted as Simon nodded once from the door and left.

Blair put his feet on the floor and shuffled along the edge of the bed to the bedstead. Using the pine frame he got to his feet on shaky legs. His head immediately began to pound and his legs felt like jelly as if they would give up on him any second. He took a couple of deep cleansing breaths until he felt steadier. The door was only five feet from the bed but it looked as wide as the Grand Canyon at that moment. 

“I can do this,” the anthropologist muttered to himself.

He moved to the open door and clung to the doorjamb for a few seconds. He looked out into the corridor beyond and wondered which way the kitchen was. When he’d arrived with Jim the previous night, it had all been a blur. He heard the sounds of movement to his left and reasoned it was Simon in the kitchen. Jim was sleeping in the second bedroom, so Blair moved as quietly as he could to join his friend in the kitchen area. Blair moved into the room and shakily moved to the kitchen table. He sank gratefully onto the wooden chair at the table. The walk from the bedroom had sapped what little energy he had left. 

“You okay, Blair?” Simon asked.

“Okay, thanks, Simon,” Blair replied but he didn’t look or sound it.

Blair thought for a moment trying to take stock of how he felt. There wasn’t anywhere that didn’t hurt or ache. The short sleeved T-shirt couldn’t hide the track marks in the skin on each of his forearms. He turned his arms inwards to hide the unsightly marks. He felt anger at that moment to the people who had done this to him. 

“Tea’s ready,” Simon announced, as he put a steaming mug of tea in front of his friend. “Peppermint just like I said.”

“Thanks, Simon,” Blair replied, pushing his dark thoughts away from the needle marks. He put his hands round the outside of the mug, trying to leach as much heat from the cup as he could into his cold hands. He couldn’t stop the shivering from the coldness he was feeling.

“You cold, Sandburg?”

“A little,” he replied truthfully. 

“I’ll get you a blanket.”

Simon disappeared for a few moments and returned with a blanket which he draped round the younger man’s shoulders.

“That better”?

“Yeah, thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome.”

Blair drank a few sips of the tea feeling embarrassed and a little ashamed that the captain should see him in this condition. He felt like he was little more than a junkie. Simon had risked his career to rescue him from the prison in El Valparaiso and now he was witnessing him at his lowest, the results of heroin withdrawal. Blair felt his cheeks colour.

“Blair…” Simon began and then coughed uncomfortably as he tried to put into words what he wanted to tell the student.

“You don’t have to say anything, Simon. But I just want to thank you for helping me ….again. I tend to be making a habit of needing yours and Jim’s help.”

“Anytime, Sandburg. I mean it. Anytime you need help you come to me okay?” Blair just looked at the captain unable to speak. “I know I come across as gruff sometimes but when you’re a Police captain you have to come across as always in charge and aloof, but you’ve proven yourself to Jim, and to me, on enough occasions. I may not always have enough patience for you but I do always listen to what you have to say, even if I don’t always agree with it.” Blair smiled at that. “And we will get the people who did this to you,” Blair nodded weakly at that. “Now drink your tea whilst it’s still hot.”

Blair raised the mug to his lips and drank some more of the peppermint tea. He felt warmer from the tea but also from the captain’s words.

“It’s a good cup of tea, Simon,” he said as he raised the mug again. 

Simon nodded in response. Blair felt reassured that the captain wasn’t blaming him in any way for what had happened. He was the victim and his friends would help him get justice.

:-)(-:

Blair slept most of that night only waking occasionally when a nightmare roused him. His stomach still felt queasy but he wasn’t sick again and he managed to keep some water down. He still felt cold though and huddled under a mound of blankets. He slept through the following morning. Jim checked on him regularly, careful not to disturb him, and was glad to see he was slowly recovering. The worst seemed to be over now. 

Blair woke early afternoon and was looking and feeling a lot better. It would be some time before he felt a hundred per cent again but he was definitely over the worst of the withdrawal. 

“Are you hungry?” Jim asked his friend as he emerged from the bedroom and stumbled into the kitchen.

“Not really,” Blair replied.

Jim was sat at the kitchen table reading a newspaper and Blair sat opposite him.

“How about some dry toast?”

Blair acquiesced and watched his friend put two slices of wholemeal bread in the toaster and put some water into the kettle for tea.

“Where’s Simon?”

“He went back to work. He’ll call in later to see how you’re doing.”

Jim went to the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice and poured his friend a glass and put it down in front of him. Blair took a hesitant sip wondering if his stomach would object, but when it didn’t he took another drink relishing the cool liquid sliding down his throat.

The toaster popped next and two slices of toast were put in front of him. As Blair nibbled at it, Jim continued his domesticity by making Blair a camomile tea.

“Thanks, Jim,” the anthropologist said when he had swallowed a mouthful of the not too appetising toast. “For all your help, helping me get through this.”

“That’s what partners do. If you’re feeling up to it, what can you tell me about the people who took you?”

Blair chewed for a moment as he thought about his abduction. “I don’t know. I was blindfolded for part of the time and the rest is pretty hazy, they kept me high on the stuff the entire time. The only way I was able to escape was because the drug was wearing off a little quicker and I could finally think again.”

“How many were there?”

“Two men,” Blair replied as he took a drink of the hot tea. “There was a woman when it all started.”

“A woman?” Jim asked, wondering if it was the same woman who was behind his friend’s ordeal. He concluded it had to be.

“Yeah, I heard her high heels on the wooden staircase down to the basement where they were holding me. She didn’t speak and she left a short time later. I don’t remember hearing her again.”

Jim was thinking she had come to witness the start of his friend’s ordeal. He wondered if she had the stomach to actually watch them inject his friend repeatedly, turning him into an addict. There was definitely a connection to drugs. She didn’t seem to want Blair to die; it was all about making him suffer as much as possible. The question was why?

“Have you any idea where they were holding you?”

“No, I woke up in the basement blindfolded.”

“What about when you escaped?” the detective asked hoping for a lead no matter how small.

Blair pulled a piece of toast apart in his fingers as he thought about it.

“I don’t remember much. It was dark and it was wet. I remember running. I saw the payphone and prayed that it was working.”

“How about going back to the phone box and seeing if anything jogs your memory.”

Blair nodded, anything to help catch the woman and her allies.

Blair showered and shaved and then dressed in some clean clothes that Simon had brought over. Then he and Jim left the safe house. Blair still felt shaky but he knew he had to do this, needed to do this. The Sentinel drove his friend to the spot where he’d found him, curled up and almost insensible in the nearby alley.

Blair got out of the truck and looked around him. He saw the payphone and the surrounding buildings but it looked so different during the day and he had been pretty strung out at the time. Then he heard a plane behind him and remembered hearing one on the night he had escaped. Blair started walking down the road towards the airport. He saw a pink painted house and remembered seeing that as he ran by. Then he heard a dog barking and distinctly remembered hearing that on his left. The anthropologist crossed the street when he saw a tree. He remembered leaning against it for a few seconds before he rushed blindly on. He continued down the street, Jim just behind him, letting Blair go where he felt compelled. Blair was oblivious to his friend; he was identifying little triggers of memory, sights, sounds, that were triggering little shards of remembrance.

Blair stopped in front of a derelict and forgotten house its windows boarded up. The picket fence was broken, the white gate in the centre hanging off its hinges. A weed filled path lead from the gate to the front porch. Knee high grass and weeds were growing either side of the fence. A honeysuckle was growing wildly and unchecked, its tendrils spreading along the right hand fence that bordered the house. Conifer trees were growing up into the sky, blocking the light on the left hand side of the front garden.

“This is the place,” Blair stated firmly his gaze not leaving the decrepit one storey house. “I was held here.”

“Are you sure?”

And Blair nodded. “I’m sure. I remember smelling the honeysuckle. ”

The detective reached behind his back and pulled out his gun. 

“Stay behind me,” the Sentinel commanded as he moved forward, his gun cocked and ready.

The windows were boarded up and the whole place looked ramshackle and forgotten. Jim reached for the front door’s handle and it moved easily.

“Lock’s been broken,” he whispered. The detective pushed the door open, his gun levelled in front of him, held in his two hands in readiness.

Jim stepped inside the front door, immediately noticing the dust in the air and the smell of rot and decay. The house had been left empty for some time. He could detect no other heartbeats, the house was empty. There was no furniture inside but a few yellowed newspapers strewn on the floor. The interior was dark from the boarded up windows but his Sentinel eyesight compensated. Instinctively his pupils dilated to allow more light in and allowed him to see perfectly in the lower light levels. 

Jim opened a door and saw steps leading down into darkness. He flipped the light switch but nothing happened. 

“Wait here, Chief,” the detective directed as started to descend the steps.

“What can you see?” Blair called down to his friend who had disappeared into the darkness.

“This is the place alright,” the detective called as his Sentinel eyes scoured the basement. 

He could plainly see where Blair had been kept. Used needles and drugs paraphernalia littered the floor. Some footsteps were clearly visible in the dust. Jim was careful not to disturb anything.

He ascended the steps and saw his friend looking exhausted but holding it together, though obviously remembering a very bad experience. Taking his cellphone Jim called it in and they waited until the forensics team descended on the house looking for evidence as to who Blair’s kidnappers had been.

Jim took Blair back to the safe house when they left the crime scene to gather their things, then they went back to the loft. Blair was over the worst of his ordeal and there was no need for them to be in seclusion any longer. When Blair had said that he hadn’t wanted anyone to know about his withdrawal, the detective could understand that. The stigma associated to drugs could hamper his academic career but now they could go home again.

It was evening when they got home. Jim made them a light meal and then Blair went to bed. He was still feeling drained from his ordeal. Every now and again he could still feel a cold sweat trying to envelop him and a few moments of cramping and fear that they were coming back would make him scared. But they soon passed.

It was still early evening but Blair was soon asleep, exhaustion overwhelming him, as he relaxed into his own bed. 

The Sentinel patrolled the loft like the watchman he was, automatically his senses casting out to keep his friend safe. No one would abduct him practically in front of him again. He phoned Simon to see if any forensics had reported back on any evidence they’d found at the derelict house. But Cassie Wells’ team were still working on it.

Later the phone rang and to Jim’s delight it was Matt MacKay. He was phoning to see how Blair was after his rescue from the prison. The Sentinel sank back and found himself unburdening himself to his old friend. Telling him what had happened to Blair and his helplessness at being unable to do anything. The former RAF pilot told his friend that his being there would have helped Blair more than he knew. He knew that was true because he was speaking from experience. Jim allowed himself a half smile. Both men were silent for a moment as they remembered that fateful mission where their paths had crossed. Coming back to the present it was Matt‘s turn to feel helpless being so far away in Florida, but he told his friend that if there was anything he could do, to phone him and ask. Strangely Jim felt better after having spoken to his old friend and assured him that he would.

It was nearing midnight and Jim was still awake. He stood outside Blair’s room, the French doors were open a crack, and he watched the grad student sleep for a few moments. The telltale evidence of his ordeal was still plainly visible if you looked, but he was recovering. Jim turned away and left his Guide to sleep. He made one final sweep of the loft to make sure everything was locked and secure and then went up to his own bedroom. 

He hadn’t slept much for the past few days and now he was finally relaxing, he was exhausted, but comfortable in the knowledge that Blair was safe. No one would get into the loft without him knowing, so he got into bed and sank gratefully under the covers and was asleep in moments. 

:-)(-:

BREAKFAST, THE LOFT

Jim scrutinised his friend over breakfast. Though Blair still didn’t look a hundred per cent he was much improved. They had toast and eggs and the anthropologist was finally enjoying coffee again as his stomach settled after his ordeal. 

“I thought I’d go to the uni today and start catching up with what I’ve missed the past few days.”

“No way, Chief,” Jim replied immediately.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re still a target,” Jim stated. “They grabbed you once, they might try again. I’m your shadow for the foreseeable future, junior, until we’ve got the people responsible. “

Blair looked annoyed and the detective could understand his friend’s frustration. His life had been turned upside down by these people. But one thought about the heroin he’d been forced to take, and more importantly the effects of the withdrawal, and Blair knew he didn’t want to ever repeat that experience.

“Okay, Jim,” Blair conceded. “I’ll phone a friend to cover my classes and take any notes I might need.”

Before Jim left for work, and Blair accompanied him, the grad student phoned his TA friend Annabelle Burges at the university.

“Hi, Annabelle, it’s Blair.”

“Hi, Blair, how are you feeling?” Annabelle Burges replied; glad to be hearing from her friend.

“What do you know about that?” the grad student replied a little tersely.

“Nothing, just that you haven’t been too well the past few days,” she replied concerned. Blair was normally so easy going and jovial.

“Sorry, Annabelle, I’m just a bit on edge at the moment.”

“That’s okay, Blair.”

“I’m feeling a lot better.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

“I won’t be in today, so I was hoping that you could cover for me again.”

“Of course, Blair, anytime you know that. I know you’d do the same for me.”

Blair smiled as he thought of the pretty blue-eyed and blonde curly haired woman who he considered a good friend. Not a romantic friend but a good friend like his friend Margaret was. They’d known each other for a few years but had gradually become good friends. She really did help him cover any classes he missed. His dual life with Jim sometimes caused his academic life and Police life to overlap. He had to treat her to dinner sometime soon to thank her for all her help.

“Oh, Blair, I’ve got to go, my roommate’s ready.”

“Okay, bye. Have a good day.”

“You too, Blair, I’m glad you’re feeling better. See you soon.”

When Blair had finished the call he noticed that his own roommate was nearly ready for work. / Looks like I’m spending the day at the PD/ the grad student thought. Jim would feel he could keep Blair safer there. /Nowhere safer than a station full of cops/ Blair thought drolly. He was feeling angry that these people were ruling his life. He couldn’t go anywhere, do anything without practically having a bodyguard following him around.

When they arrived at Major Crimes, Simon immediately called them into his office.

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you, Sandburg,” the captain stated.

“Thanks, captain, I’m feeling better.”

“Jim, I received a phone call this morning just before you got in. The body of Clive Cole was found early this morning.”

“What?” Jim gasped. “How’d he die?”

“Overdose of heroin.”

“It’s not on his record that he’s a user, only a supplier,” Jim said thoughtfully. “Simon, drugs are the key to this whole thing. Blair’s arrested for drugs in El Valparaiso, Susie Stibson’s was poisoned on the archaeological dig, then Blair being given heroin against his will,” Blair seemed to shrink back as Jim mentioned that unpleasant experience. “Now Clive Cole dies of a heroin overdose. There’s a connection here and we’ve just got to find it. Come on, Chief, I’ve got a hunch.”

Simon Banks watched his lead detective leave his office with the young grad student hot on his heels. The captain knew the detective would find out who was behind all this. 

Jim sat at his desk and logged in on his computer. Blair watched his friend work and become absorbed in the detective work that he was so good at. The grad student saw the detective put the name ‘Leo Hanbury’ into the Police database.

“Do you think Leo Hanbury has a grudge again me?” Blair asked. “The failing grade I gave him was the final straw and it resulted in him being kicked out of uni.”

“Clive Cole told me he’s dead. Leo Hanbury and Clive Cole were both arrested for drugs possession 18 months ago and now they are both dead.”

Leo Hanbury’s profile was interesting. Seems he had come from a wealthy family and his sister’s money had gotten him off the drugs possession charge. His parents had both died when he was young and he had been raised by his older sister after that. After he left Rainier he dropped out of sight in Cascade; as he had moved back to Savannah, Georgia, where he was originally from, and where his sister was still living. Jim phoned Savannah and spoke to a detective who pulled up Leo Hanbury’s details. 

Leo had moved back in with his sister. A year after he had returned to Savannah he had been killed in a drugs bust that went wrong. Heather Hanbury was devastated by the loss of her baby brother and soon after his funeral she had sold the family home and dropped out of sight. Jim thanked the detective and got him to fax through the details of both brother and sister.

Jim knew he was getting somewhere. He knew Leo’s sister Heather Hanbury was involved in this, his gut was telling him so.

That afternoon the preliminaries came back from the DNA found in the basement and at the derelict house where Blair had been held. Two people other than Blair had been in the house, a Derron Cooksey and an Andrew Grayshott. Both men had priors but mainly minor things. Neither were mastermind criminals. 

Warrants were soon issued and Rafe and H. Brown were sent to bring both men in. Within an hour both suspects were at the PD. They were held in separate interrogation rooms where Blair and Jim observed them through the two-way glass.

:-)(-:

CASCASE PD INTERROGATION ROOM

Derron Cooksey and Andrew Grayshott were left alone to think before they were interviewed. Jim wanted Blair to see them through the two-way mirrors before he spoke to them, to see if he recognised them.

“Blair, take a good look,” Jim said as they stood looking through the two-way mirror at Andrew Grayshott. “Is that one of the men who kidnapped you?”

Blair scrutinised the man, chewing his lower lip as he did so. “I can’t be sure. I was blindfolded at first and then I was out of it mostly after that.”

“How about their voices?” the detective asked.

“I would know their voices if I heard them again,” Blair replied positively.

“Okay, Chief, I’ll go talk to Grayshott and you listen to his voice. Okay?”

Blair licked his dry lips, being so close to one of the men who had probably taken him and forced heroin into his veins was a little unnerving. 

“You doing okay, Chief?” The Sentinel asked as he noted his friend’s elevated heartbeat and he gripped his shoulder encouragingly. 

“Yeah, Jim, I’m fine,” he replied stoically. “Really,” he added putting on a brave face.

Jim nodded and then left the room and went in to speak with the suspect. He sat down opposite the man and the detective put down a manila folder on the table and opened it, not once looking at the man. He glanced at the DNA report inside and not at the suspect.

“I’m Detective James Ellison,” he replied his ice-blue snapping up to stare at Grayshott steadfastly in the eyes.

“What the hell am I doing here, cop!” he bellowed. 

The detective didn’t even flinch.

As soon as Blair heard the voice he knew it was him.

“It’s him, Jim,” Blair stated through the glass knowing his Sentinel could hear him. “He’s one of them.”

The detective glanced at the glass briefly and acknowledged that he had heard his friend.

“We know you kidnapped Blair Sandburg and forced him to take heroin,” Jim began.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You got nothing on me. You’re lying.”

“Unfortunately, Mr Grayshott, DNA does not lie. Your DNA was found all over the derelict house where you incarcerated Mr Sandburg.” Jim noted with a certain amount of pleasure that the suspect was breaking out in a cold sweat and his heartbeat had suddenly elevated. “We know you’re just the muscle and not the brains. I want the woman who hired you.”

“Woman, what woman?”

Jim’s ice-blue eyes bore into Grayshott’s. “Don’t insult my intelligence. We can talk and go round in circles but you are going to give me her name. We could make some sort of deal here. I’m going to ask your partner the same question. Whoever gives me the information I want to know, could get a reduced sentence. It’s up to you.”

Jim let the man to think about his words for a few seconds. He hated to make any sort of deal as he knew this was one of the men who had put his friend through hell. But he needed answers and needed them fast.

“What sort of deal are we talking here?”

Jim knew he had him. “Give me the information I want to know and if it pans out I’ll speak to the DA on your behalf.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“It’s all you’re going to get. You see Blair Sandburg’s my partner.”

“What!! He’s a cop. I swear I didn’t know he was a cop.”

“What that makes a difference whether a man is a cop or not? I hope she paid you well for what you put him through.”

“It was nothing personal,” and Grayshott looked away and then looked back the detective. “She didn’t tell me her name but she was classy. She told us we were recommended to her.”

“Describe her?”

“Classy broad, about 5 foot 8, with blond hair and green eyes.”

Jim was thinking of the description of the woman in El Valparaiso who gained entry to Blair’s hotel room, she was described as being around that height but she had red hair. Though she could have disguised herself with a wig. 

Jim took out a photograph of Heather Hanbury and showed it to Grayshott.

“That’s her,” he replied. Jim was monitoring his vitals and knew he was telling the truth, he wasn’t just saying yes to the first picture he saw.

Heather Hanbury was behind Blair’s arrest in El Valparaiso and she was behind his ordeal here in Cascade. 

“Thank you,” Jim said standing up and turning towards the door. 

“You going to help me, cop?” Grayshott pleaded.

“Not that you deserve it but I’m a man of my word. I’ll speak to the DA,” and Jim left to go back to Blair.

Jim spoke to the second man, Derron Cooksey, as Blair watched behind a two-way mirror. Blair recognised his voice also. They definitely had the two men behind Blair’s abduction, now they were after the mastermind.

Then the two men went to Simon Banks’ office.

“Simon, this woman,” and Jim showed his captain Heather Hanbury’s picture “is behind Blair being put in prison in El Valparaiso and she’s behind his kidnapping here in Cascade.”

“Why?”

“I taught her brother Leo at Rainier two years ago but I gave him a failing grade and he dropped out of school.”

“You think that’s enough for his sister to come after you with all barrels blazing?” Simon asked.

“There’s more, captain. Leo Hanbury died in a shootout with Police in Savannah six months ago. He was a drugs dealer and it was a bust that went bad. When he left Rainier he drifted into drugs here in Cascade. I think that’s why Heather is using drugs against Blair. She blames Blair for her brother’s death.”

“That’s insane,” Simon added looking at Blair. “You okay, Sandburg?”

“Yeah,” the grad student replied and sighed loudly. “I just can’t believe it. Leo was never the best student, he was always late for lectures, his work was sloppy at best and his heart was never in it. It was only a matter of time before he left uni anyway. I don’t understand why his sister blames me for everything that happened to him.”

“You’re an easy target, Chief. Heather probably blames herself for not looking out for him better; she’s just using you to vent her anger. But you’re the one with the psyche minor, Chief.” Jim said thinking out loud.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Blair replied, his voice as weary as he felt.

“Okay, Jim, what’s the plan?” Simon asked.

“Blair’s still in danger until Heather is caught. Now we know who we’re looking for I want to put a warrant out for her arrest. Andrew Grayshott will testify that she is the one who hired him to kidnap Blair.”

“You got it, Jim,” the captain replied reaching for his phone to organise a warrant for Heather Hanbury’s arrest.

“It will soon be all over, Chief,” Jim said brightly.

Blair looked into his friend’s pale blue eyes and saw the truth in his statement. Maybe it really was starting to unfold and he would soon be able to finally get on with his life again. 

:-)(-:

EPILOGUE

Heather Hanbury picked up her personal diary and turned to today’s entry. Immediately she began to write.

“I need to do this. He was all I had. He died because of him. The sun shone for him and now he’s gone. Like a shooting star that blazes a fiery trail across the night sky, but all too soon its glory fades and dies out. Leo was like that he blazed a fiery and bright trail, but that man caused it to fade much too soon. I swear to you, my brother, he who caused your death will also die; but before he dies he will suffer a death of prolonged suffering and agony. He’ll want to die before I’m finished with him. I make this pledge to you and promise you that with all my heart. Blair Sandburg will die for what he did to you.”

With that Heather picked up a sharp knife from the kitchen with her right hand, and without hesitation, she drew it across the palm of her left hand. She didn’t even wince as the serrated edge cut through her flesh. Immediately blood started to flow through the cut. She glanced at the red blood for a few seconds; feeling emboldened and mesmerised by it, and then slowly turned her hand over and let the drops drip onto the page of her diary. She closed the diary with a snap. The pledge and solemn vow was now made in blood.

The End

August 2011

**Author's Note:**

> It's strange what inspires and sparks a story. This trilogy came about after I saw "The Real Deal" episode and Jim and Blair were discussing old cop shows and they mentioned "Starsky and Hutch". That made me think of "The Fix" episode which was not shown originally by the BBC here in England (as the episode was too graphic for the BBC at the time) but it was only shown fairly recently on another channel. Upon watching this episode I thought that I would have loved to have seen Garett M acting Hutch's heroin addiction scenes and Richard B as Starsky's attentive partner doing what he could to help him through the subsequent withdrawal. Any actor would jump to get such emotionally charged scenes. And the germ of the idea was born. 
> 
> For this story I did some research on the internet about heroin and heroin addiction, as I know very little about hard drugs other than what I have seen on TV. How anyone can willingfully shoot such nasty drugs into their veins is beyond me. The rush or high may be incredible to begin with but it is all too short lived and the reality of it all is just too sad for words. I read some accounts of actual heroin addicts and it struck me as just heartbreaking that the white powder is the world that their lives revolve around. Hard drugs are definitely not worth it.


End file.
